


You Kind of do Though

by Rory_writes



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cute, Drunk Neil Josten, Fluffy, M/M, Meet-Cute, Meet-Ugly, POV Andrew Minyard, Trans Andrew Minyard, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27843214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rory_writes/pseuds/Rory_writes
Summary: Someone breaks into Andrew's house one night, drunkenly looking for his friend and instead finding a cat and, well, Andrew.Trans Andrew Minyard.Flirty Neil Josten.It's cute guys idek
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 17
Kudos: 219





	You Kind of do Though

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lyndis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyndis/gifts).



> Thank you Lyndis for helping me find a prompt to work with, I appreciate you.  
> In conjunction with Lyndis' beautiful mind, I remembered a similar prompt on the 'meet ugly' list floating around Tumblr that I can't find the link to. 
> 
> Not beta read, written in 3.5 hours (it's 3.30am help). Be nice to me haha.

Somebody was in Andrew’s apartment. There was so many things wrong with that observation, starting with the fact that it was three o’clock in the morning and Andrew hadn’t invited anyone over, ending with the knowledge he didn’t have any spare keys laying around and whoever had come in hadn’t broken a window or door. He also lived on the fourth floor of his building, the fire escape was broken, and to get into the building you needed security codes and keys. Now, Andrew knew there was someone in his building because after twenty-five years of his bullshit existence, he was the lightest sleeper in the world and had woken up the sound of his front door closing. Immediately, he’d leapt from his bed and found the blades on his bedside table, walking on silent feet to his bedroom door. The intruder wasn’t even trying to be quiet. They tromped around the apartment like they fucking owned the place, and then Andrew heard the crash and clatter of something getting knocked to the floor.  
“Fucking hell on ice!” The intruder, their deep voice suggesting male- although who was Andrew to judge-, cursed. “Sorry!” The potential thief added in a hiss, which was peculiar in and of itself. Andrew frowned and crept out into his hallway, listening as the intruder started walking away from the kitchen towards the den. “Why did they redecorate?” The guy asked the apartment. Andrew crept around the corner, his heartbeat elevated with the adrenaline, but he was more than a little curious now too. He was just in time to watch a slim man, maybe a little taller than Andrew himself was, walk into the den and leave the door open. The streetlights streaming into the hall from outside had turned his hair a coppery colour, but apart from that, in his black clothes, the man had been a silhouette.  
“Oh my God!” The man said from inside the den. Andrew raised an eyebrow, walking towards the sound, not sure if it was better to pen the man in the room or if it would have been better to herd him out. Andrew was also starting to doubt the sobriety of the man, with his heavy gait and the strange inflections in his voice. He could also be disturbed, and all of this had the possibility to go bad very quickly. “Kitty! When did you get here little guy?” The man asked. Andrew’s rescued tabby cat, King Fluffkins, must have been sleeping on the couch or armchair. Judging by the startled _mrrp_ sound the dumb animal made, she was now awake. This was followed by a soft cooing noise from the intruder, a meow from the cat, and then giggles. Honest to God giggles. Andrew froze just outside of sight from the doorway, frowning down at the knives in his hands. Andrew was… conflicted. On one hand, he had some strange, probably intoxicated man who had broken into his house and broken something. On the other hand, he seemed harmless. Still, Andrew knew that looks could be deceiving and he silently moved to stand in the doorway, looking in at the thief. The man in question had taken off his shoes and was sitting on the sofa, cross-legged with the large cat on his lap. King, who clearly had no survival instincts, was purring and kneading at the man’s knees, her tail twisting around his arm as he petted her.  
“Matt would have told me if he’d gotten a cat,” the man told King, a frown tugging at his eyebrows. Andrew crossed his arms across his chest- wishing it was to make himself look more powerful but was more just a reflex when coming face to face with someone without his binder- a little understanding dawning on him. Matthew Boyd and Danielle Wilds were Andrew’s neighbours. They’d all gone to college together, played on the same team, and when others had gone off in search of their real lives, the three of them had stayed put. Andrew was doing his postgraduate law degree, Dan was coaching at the local high school, and Matt was a personal trainer. Andrew was friendly enough with the couple he’d known for so long, although he hadn’t meant to move into their apartment building after graduation. He’d just not wanted to stay in his cousin’s house alone when Nicky had gone back to Germany and Andrew’s twin had move to Columbia university’s campus to study medicine.

“He probably would have,” Andrew agreed, making his presence known. The intruder lurched to his feet, scooping Andrew’s cat to his chest as if to protect her from Andrew.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded. There was a reason Andrew knew not to trust appearances. Even though the man was clearly inebriated and had an arm full of ginger fluff, his stance was practice and prepared. He’d fight if Andrew threatened him, which he wouldn’t with his stupid cat in the crossfire. _Is King a hostage now?_

“Good question, but seeing as though you are in my house, and that is my cat, I should be asking you that question,” Andrew mused, reaching into the room and flicking on the light with the hilt of his knife. The stranger blinked in annoyance and hid his face in King’s fur as if to shield himself. When he lifted his face again, Andrew was able to see how blue his eyes were and noticed the tortured scars on his cheeks. The man looked around and Andrew watched his alcohol addled brain process his surroundings. Andrew had been in Matt and Dan’s house; he knew that it was neat and polished and well put together with the help of their old teammate Allison. It did not like Andrew’s mismatched, lived in, minimalistic décor. He didn’t have matching throw pillows and shaggy rugs that matched nice curtains. He had old pillows and a folded-up comforter on the end of the couch in case he fell asleep there studying, and he walked around in socks instead of investing in rugs, his windows covered in slatted blinds and not curtains. Turning the light on had been, a necessity, but now Andrew felt bare and uncomfortable in their old white tee shirt and red pyjama pants.

“This is not Matt and Dan’s house,” the man said, turning a wide-eyed look on Andrew. “Am I in the wrong building?”

“No, just the wrong apartment,” Andrew answered, stepping into the room and to the side so that the man could leave and go to the right one. Instead, he smiled as if content with this information, and sat down. Andrew’s brain struggled to process that for a moment. “What are you doing?” He demanded.

“Well, they don’t have a cat and you do,” he said easily. As if to prove this, King curled up in the man’s lap and started purring again.

“You need to leave,” Andrew said firmly, dancing his blade through his fingers to show them to the stranger. The man’s heavy-lidded gaze followed the movement, looking supremely unimpressed.

“Fancy,” he mused, voice bored. He put one hand to his cheek, covering the side with the criss-crossing, thin scars and not the ruination of a burn mark under his eye. “Knives don’t scare me anymore,” he said as if in explanation. Andrew hated him for saying something so intriguing. People often bolted if Andrew fidgeted with weapons in front of them, and his scowls or impassivity usually made them at least hesitate. Especially if they had done something wrong, like break into his fucking house. Yet, this man just pressed a kiss to the top of his cat’s head and tucked his feet under him to make himself comfortable.

“Who are you?” Andrew asked, leaning against the wall and tapping one of his blades to his thigh as he watched the man. He looked up, blowing a loose strand of his auburn hair off his face, and Andrew was a little taken aback by the genuine, almost beautiful smile he flashed at Andrew, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You’re the host, shouldn’t you introduce yourself first?” He asked, voice unmistakably coy. Andrew gritted his teeth and stared him down, not letting himself show any kind of amusement even as it tugged at his lips.

“Who are you?” Andrew repeated. The pretty, interesting stranger rolled his eyes as if bored with Andrew already.

“I have had many names, take your fucking pick,” he muttered. Andrew’s eyebrows rose of their own accord and he held his knives a little more at the ready. The man, no matter how inebriated he was, noticed the move and waved it away. “Relax,” he said with a sigh. “I’m Neil Josten. Legally. For real.”

“You weren’t always Neil Josten?” Andrew asked. He should probably go and wake Matt and Dan up and tell them to come collect their drunken, misplaced friend, or at the very least deposit _Neil Josten_ on their doorstep, but he was awake now and curiosity was burning at the back of his throat. Besides, King had well and truly made herself at home on this man’s lap.

“Nah, that would have been too easy,” he said with a derisive snort. “Can I have some water?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Andrew told him. Neil shrugged and lolled his head back against the couch, eyes half-closed. Andrew didn’t trust him, but he also wanted to make sure the guy didn’t vomit all over his couch and his cat, and he did want to know what Neil had broken. He backed out of the room and down the hallway to his kitchen where he was met with broken glass across the tiles. It appeared like Neil had tried to get his own drink of water and failed miserably. Andrew sighed and yanked a bottle of water out of his fridge, returning to find Neil hadn’t moved. He took the offered bottle eagerly and Andrew left him drinking it, moving back to the kitchen to sweep up the mess as efficiently as possible so King didn’t hurt herself if she left the den throughout the night.  
When he was done, he found himself drawn back to the second mess in his apartment. Neil was lying down on the couch now, his black jean discarded with his shoes, but he’d pulled the comforter to his waist and pushed the pillows where he apparently wanted them. King, the traitor, was lying on the small of his back and watching Andrew as if daring him to take away her new bed.  
“Am I supposed to just let you sleep here?” Andrew asked the man.

“That would be nice,” Neil replied, his voice heavy with sleep. He didn’t even open his eyes. With his eyes screwed shut and not watching Andrew, the blonde was able to let reaction show on his face, so he gaped at the man. It was after three o’clock on a Saturday morning, Andrew was _armed_ and the man just… fell asleep on his couch after breaking in. That wasn’t just being drunk. That was plain old, run of the mill, unforgivable, stupidity. So, why was Andrew letting him stay?  
_For King,_ he told himself as he switched off the light and half-closed the door of the den. Andrew went back to his room, locking the door behind him and left one of his blades under his pillow. Before he fell back to sleep, he sent his old captain a text message. _Your child broke into my house and fell asleep on my couch. Pick it up at your earliest convenience. He fucked the lock on my front door so you will have no problems._

***

When Andrew woke up a few hours later, the den was empty. The only evidence that Neil had slept there was the comforter in disarray and the near empty drink bottle on the coffee table. Andrew left them where they were, feeling- unimaginably- disappointed. He chided himself, told himself to stop being an idiot and be relieved that the problem had sorted itself out. King whined at him from the kitchen where her food bowl was left so he followed the sound to his responsibility. Stuck to the coffee pot was a bright green sticky note stolen off Andrew’s desk in the corner of the den. _Sorry for breaking the lock on your door. Send me the bill? Also, you didn’t tell me your name in the end, so it’s your turn. -Neil Josten._ Scrawled underneath the name was a mobile number. Andrew stared at it for a moment, jolting in surprise when King rubbed at his ankle and mewled pitifully. He reached under the sink for the cat food, filled her bowl and smooched the top of her head before discarding of the tin, washing his hands, and returning to the note. Andrew was thinking a few things. Firstly, would Neil really have broken into Matt and Dan’s house and ruined their front door? And how had he gotten into the building anyway? Secondly, was Andrew genuinely supposed to send the stranger the bill for the locksmith? He would like to; the bastard did break it. Thirdly, was he expecting Andrew to message him? Matt or Dan could fill him in on any and all stories from college, including his history of three years in juvie for assault resulting in grievous bodily harm, and court ordered medication for assault for another three years. They could also tell Neil his name.  
Andrew made his coffee and sat at the table reading the news on his laptop, mostly because he needed to stay on top of court reporting for one of his classes, and also because it kept at least part of his brain off thoughts of Neil.  
When his mug was drained and he was officially bored of the news, he rang the building’s super and told him about his broken lock. Maddox was used to Andrew after two years and didn’t even ask any questions. Just said he’ll have someone up first thing on Monday to change the locks and told Andrew to take anything valuable and stay with someone else until then. Like hell Andrew was doing that. He could protect himself and his home, not that he’d really done a very good job last night all thing’s considered, and at least the door did stay closed if not locked.  
He toyed with his phone for a few minutes before leaving it on the kitchen counter while he showered. Once clean and dressed in sweatpants and an old college hoodie, he took his laptop and phone into the den and switched on his TV. He left his phone within arm’s reach on the coffee table while he downloaded some of the chapters from one of his text books, leaving _I Dream of Genie_ reruns on his TV in the background.

Andrew spent the day reading his textbooks, eating leftovers, cuddling his cat and watching 90s sitcoms. He’d answered the typical group call between his twin and his cousin, watched his friend Renee’s snapchat videos she sent him of her weekend hike, and dutifully responded to the assignment group WhatsApp he was in. Yet, all day, he felt twitchy. As if he’d forgotten to do something. Like he needed to do something. He told himself he didn’t owe Neil Josten anything. The man had broken into his house, kidnapped his cat for a night, broken the lock on his front door, disturbed his sleep and shattered a glass. Still, Neil’s reminder that he had given Andrew his name and Andrew hadn’t reciprocated the information left him feeling imbalanced.  
So, after a pizza dinner, Andrew took his mobile valuable objects and his cat to his bedroom and locked the door and sat on the floor with King in his lap, staring at his cell phone. He ground his teeth, cursed aloud, and then cursed at himself.

_Andrew: You have no survival instincts. If Boyd and Wilds didn’t tell you, my name is Andrew._

Andrew went to close his phone, turn it completely off even, but the three pulsing grey dots appeared almost immediately, and he faltered.

_Lockpick: I was drunk. What’s your excuse for letting me stay?  
Lockpick: Hi Andrew :) _

_Andrew: I hate you._

In that moment, Andrew really did. He didn’t want to think too hard about why he’d let the stranger sleep on his couch. Maybe it was some begrudging residual trust he had in Matt and Dan that they wouldn’t befriend someone ultimately dangerous- which was most likely a misplaced idea seeing as though two (Andrew included) of their friends had committed murder and the rest had been Foxes for all that entailed. He refused to admit it was because was pretty enough to be eye-catching and interesting enough for Andrew to have not stopped thinking about all day.

_Lockpick: That’s okay, you don’t have to like me. You kind of do though._

_Andrew: Fuck off._

_Lockpick: You have no manners._

_Andrew: Fuck off, take two._

_Lockpick: You have no manners, take two.  
Lockpick: Did you get your door sorted? Again, sorry about that. Matt and Dan’s key wasn’t working… obviously… so I just picked the lock. _

Who the fuck does that? Andrew rolled his eyes to the ceiling, letting his head the wall behind him. King made a noise and he looked down into the two-toned eyes of his tabby and pulled her into his chest, kissing the top of her head. Unconditional love was one of the reasons he’d gotten a cat in the first place. On days like this, where he’d chosen to give his chest and ribs a break, his cat didn’t treat him any different. King didn’t care. She got food and head smooches and would fall asleep on whatever surface she could find.

_Andrew: I figured as much on my own. Monday._

_Lockpick: Need somewhere to stay until it’s sorted? Least I can do._

_Andrew: Are you fucking with me?_

_Lockpick: No. Ask Matt, I’m a fucking delight 0:)_

Andrew smiled at that. He actually smiled. Which just made him shake his head.

_Andrew: I’m not asking Matt shit._

_Lockpick: Good call, make the decision yourself! Breakfast tomorrow?_

_Andrew: Huh?_

Andrew frowned at his screen, rereading the past dozen messages and realised, perhaps a moment too late, that Neil was flirting.

_Lockpick: Breakfast tomorrow, with me?_

_Andrew: Isn’t breakfast easier when you wake up in the same place?_

Andrew’s cheeks were warm when they pressed send on the message and they bit their lip to keep their smile in check. Pretty boys didn’t flirt with him very often, and they never, ever, flirted back.

_Lockpick: …  
Lockpick: Are you inviting me over?_

_Andrew: No._

They responded, maybe, a little too fast. The idea of Neil coming over was equally distressing as it was appealing. The attractive man with many names and many scars, and annoyingly enough, a small amount of humour that Andrew could appreciate, even if it was just at each other’s expense.

_Lockpick: Shame because I’m about to leave Matt and Dan’s and it would save me a decent walk…_

Andrew locked the scree of his phone and put his head back against the wall again.  
“What the fuck, King?” He groaned. “What have we done? What am _I doing?_ ”

_Andrew: Not a murderer?_

_Lockpick: Not quite._

_Andrew: I hate that answer._

_Lockpick: And what do you like, Mr. Andrew?_

_Andrew: Mr. Minyard.  
Andrew: Cats. Ice cream. Doors that lock._

_Lockpick: I like cats too_

_Andrew: I noticed.  
Andrew: Sure… _

His heart was beating erratically and he eyed his binder where it sat on the edge of his bed before pushing King from his lap and changing out of his oversized hoodie into the white half-tank piece of fabric and pulled on the nearest tee shirt out of his drawer. It was plain dark blue with sleeves that had a hole for his thumbs at the bottom. He armed himself, a precaution and a habit more so than a suspected necessity. He unlocked his bedroom door, his mouth dry, and King preceded him out to the kitchen. _What was he doing? Andrew didn’t invite this kind of… anything into his life. He didn’t want it, he didn’t need it, and he certainly didn’t expect it._ He’d spent his entire life fighting it, hiding from it and accepting he couldn’t have it. Whatever this was. It was nothing, really. It was… Andrew didn’t really know what this was. It was asking for trouble, really.  
Andrew sat on the counter drinking sips of water, toying with one of the thumb holes when there was a knock at the door. He fucking knocked. He broke the door and knew it was unlocked, and he’d technically been invited in, yet he still knocked. Maybe if he’d done that at three that morning, Andrew would trust him with boundaries a little more, but this was a good start.  
“It’s fucking open!” Andrew yelled. He heard the laugh as the door was pushed open, followed by the sound of a much lighter, much more even tread. Neil Josten appeared in the doorway a moment later. His hair was damp, and Andrew was ninety percent sure he was wearing sweatpants that belonged to Dan under a tee shirt that was so big it definitely belonged to Matt. Andrew hid his smirk behind the rim of his drink bottle.

“Hey,” Neil said, smiling near enough shyly at Andrew. “I haven’t done this before…”

“The breaking and entering or the late-night drop ins with strangers?” Andrew replied, capping his drink. Neil huffed a laugh.

“I haven’t done the breaking and entering thing for a couple of years,” he admitted. It wasn’t exactly an unsurprising reply, the guy clearly knew what he’d been doing. “I did mean this though.” He gestured between them and Andrew rolled his eyes.

“This,” he said, copying his gesture, “is nothing.”

“I don’t believe you,” Neil said with a shrug. Andrew hopped of the counter and crossed the room to the freezer, pulling out a tub of ice cream.

“Spoons are in the top drawer,” Andrew said. He saw Neil do as instructed out of the corner of his eye and when he straightened, Andrew gestured for him to lead the way to the den seeing as though he knew where it was. Neil made himself comfortable where he’d been before, wedged into the corner of the couch. Andrew sat at the other end, taking a spoon and shoving it in his mouth before reaching for the remote. Andrew didn’t really want to talk and Neil just made himself comfortable with the comforter while Andrew channel surfed. Neil threw half the covers at Andrew, but made no effort to cover him or fix it, which Andrew appreciated.

“Wait! Go back!” Neil said, snapping to attention, speaking so fast his spoon fell out of his mouth. Andrew frowned and went back, landing on the Exy rerun.

“Nope,” he answered, skipping ahead again. He found Futurama and left it there, not hearing a complaint from Neil. They ate the ice cream curled up in their corners, passing the tub back in forth. Neither missed the curious looks they made at the other man, and when they nearly finished the tub, Neil moved to face Andrew.

“Why did you let me stay?”

“My cat likes you,” Andrew answered, sending a pointed look at the cat lying between them.

“And the real reason?”

“Intrigue,” Andrew deadpanned. Neil smiled softly and nodded his head and Andrew didn’t like how that made his stomach feel. Well, maybe he liked it a little bit. “Hey, so, I don’t know much… but I do know you should probably get changed before you go to sleep,” he said carefully. Andrew went a little pink in the cheeks- a reflex reaction- and crossed his arms across his chest. Neil smiled again. “Easy, Andrew, I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Andrew maybe did like how that made him feel.

“You can sleep on the couch,” he said, climbing to his feet. “You can also keep the cat for the night.”

“We will both be here when you wake up,” Neil promised. Andrew arched an eyebrow at him before switching off the TV. When he spoke, it was into the dark.

“You better, you owe me breakfast,” he said quietly. He sensed Neil’s smile more than he smiled, and he went back to his room before he could say or do anything stupid. He locked his door behind him, changed back into his hoodie and climbed under the covers.

***

When he woke, Neil was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. He had discarded his borrowed pants from Dan and was just wearing Matt’s shirt that trailed to his thighs and when he saw Andrew, he wore a sleep smile. King Fluffkins had food in her bowl, there was still hot coffee in the pot and Neil had a food delivery app open on his phone perusing breakfast options.  
“So, this wasn’t a law-student stress induced dream?” Andrew checked, pouring himself coffee. When he turned, there was colour in Neil’s cheeks, and he ducked his head.

“God, I hope not,” he said quietly. “I’m also not a law student, so I guess it can’t be.”

“What is it then?” Andrew asked, sitting down across from him. “Apart from weird, anyway.”

“According to you,” Neil said with a mischievous smile. “This is nothing,” he replied. Andrew rolled his eyes and held his hand out for the phone. Neil handed it over without hesitation.

“I still hate you.”

“You don’t have to like me. You kind of do though,” Neil replied smugly. Just because he was right, didn’t mean Andrew had to say anything. So, he didn’t. He just ordered breakfast and sat a little closer to Neil on the couch when they ate.

***

Andrew watched Neil lower the cat carrier, his grin cheesy and his arms covered in scratches.  
“I said yes to a cat, not a mountain lion,” Andrew told his boyfriend. King Fluffkins crept out of from under the coffee table to sniff at the cat carrier, her hackles immediately raising as the creature inside hissed at her.

“He reminded me of you,” Neil shot back.

“Excuse me?” Andrew replied with a laugh, used to Neil’s antics after knowing him for three years. Neil waved that away and opened the zips of the carrier, releasing a black and white monster into their den. King bolted out of the room and Andrew guessed she was taking refuge in their bedroom. Neil grinned at Andrew, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. “What have you done?” Andrew asked him.

“Probably the wrong thing, but I’m happy,” Neil admitted as the wrecking ball took off under the couch.

“What am I going to do with you?” Andrew asked, shaking his head. Neil smirked and cross to him, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth before going over to the couch and dropping down to his knees then down to the ground to try and see under it. Andrew laughed at the hissing sound that followed, backing out of the room in search of King.

“I am so lucky you love me!” Neil yelled after him. Andrew laughed quietly to himself and scooped King off his pillow on their bed.

“No, he’s lucky you liked him when he broke in three years ago and he’s lucky I love you,” he murmured to her.

“Hey, I heard that,” Neil said quietly. Andrew turned to him in the doorway where he held a small black and white creature that seemed determined to crawl up his arm. 

“I still hate you.”

“You don’t have to like me,” Neil said easily, and Andrew waited for the end of the sentence. “You kind of do though.”

“I kind of do though,” Andrew confirmed.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @andrew-is-foxy  
> TikTok: @rory_reads
> 
> Comments, bookmarks, kudos, whatever takes your fancy! Thank you x


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